


moonlight sonata

by Aislingvelveteen



Series: Booker [1]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: F/M, Possibly Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:06:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28735443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aislingvelveteen/pseuds/Aislingvelveteen
Summary: A new member of the team always sneaks in when Booker is playing the piano, to observe and to enjoy the music. Joe one day confronts her about it and is left gutted by the conversation.
Relationships: Sebastien le livre/booker x oc
Series: Booker [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2106657
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	moonlight sonata

**Author's Note:**

> Booker has a tendency to sneak off and play piano when he is feeling particularly down. The latest member always follows and listens from the shadows. After a while, Joe asks her why she never lets Booker know she's there. The conversation turns out to be more than Joe bargained for. Little do they know, they themselves are being observed as well.

You had once again snuck after him into the abandonned church where he would occasionaly withdraw to play piano. He had been having nightmares the last couple of nights, so you knew it would only take so long before he withdrew to pour out his anguish. Just like now. He was hunched over the old piano, carefully tuned by his skilled hands, gathering his thoughts or perhaps his courage to let go of the pain. As soon as his fingers carressed the black and white keys, the anguish started to trickle out of him, seeping into every note he coaxed from the piano. Note after note escaped from his bared soul and while some of them floated gently though perhaps a tad heavily through the dust laden air, others fell heavily upon the floor. The moonshine sonata being tempted and tortured amid the ruined pews. It always got to you, this piece. Never before, but when Booker played it, it resonated somewhere within you. You loved watching him play, when he believed himself hidden from the world and all its witnesses. He was raw and fragile and you couldn't look away then. In those moments, you knew him. You understood him like you had never been able to even understand yourself perhaps. Through him, you learned more about yourself than you had ever held possible. 

You wondered if this would ever change. If his playing would change, the older you both grew. You were still young, only a new immortal. Not even Bookers age when he died his first death all those years ago. Yet you felt the weight of it all as if you had been around for ages. Even Andy once commented on your "old soul". WIth her well established cynicism of course. But still,... If you could keep doing this through the ages, watching him play, it might not even be so bad. This connection between you two, however ovlivious he was to it all, was one of the most real bonds you had ever experienced. 

Sometimes he bowed his head as if in silent prayer only to lift his face to sky moments later in an anguished plea, all the while bleeding from his soul when the memories consumed his mind. Maybe this was the only way he could find peace. Alcohol numbed the pain, but playing music allowed him to feel all of it in its exquisite sharpness, reminding him what it was like to feel. After the final note, he carefully closed the lid and without further ado walked out of the church like nothing had happened. 

It was only then that you noticed you were not alone in the church as you had thought. Joe had taken place in the pew behind you and when he gently tickled your ear to let you know he was a friend and not a foe, you smiled. "Have you ever considered letting him know you are here, when he plays?" you thought about it and shook your head. "No. Some things should be loved from afar." Turning a bit on the pew, you saw Joe purse his lips. You explained "For instance, the music needs to travel through the room in order to pick up its timbre, its warmth or maybe even to do the opposite in order to be fully experienced. Like moonlight." Here he smiled. "Light travels great distances to reach us and when it finally lands upon the water to dance, it is breathtaking to behold. You cannot love that moon from up close."  
"Like Booker?" Sighing you crossed your legs and got a bit more comfortable on the pew, leaning you arm on the back of it. "Mmmm. No. That man needs to be loved up close. He has been through such storms in his life, he is left broken. The only thing keeping him together is just a bunch of loose seams and torn edges. He's like a mosaic." You paused, thinking of the comparison and thought of a better one. "You know the Japanese artform where they mend broken pottery with gold?" Joe nodded. He knew of course what you were refering to but never imagined anyone would use it describing Booker. "How so?"  
"He has been broken so many times by his past, the alcohol, the self destructive behaviour. Yet when he plays, you cannot deny that it is pure gold that pours from his fingertips, straight from his soul. It is the most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed, yet seeing it scares me more than the knowledge that I will have to die a thousand deaths before my time is up." You looked over to see Joe sitting there with tearfilled eyes. "You love him. You cannot deny it. Not to me. So why not love him from up close." A sad chuckle filled the air. "I will tell you in return for your promise. We will never have this discussion again. We won't mention it. You will not try to argue with me or change my mind. I will tell you the truth, and we will leave it here in this church, never to touch upon it again." He frowned then, this beautiful man who had seen you when no one else had. Who had felt your love for Booker and not judged you for it or warned you against it. Leaning forward a bit, he grasped your hand and gave pressed a firm kiss upon your palm, silently giving you his word. "I have learned very early in life, not only from my parents but from other people as well that there is nothing here," you pointed towards yourself, "worth loving. So I will love him from afar, and when he finds someone worthy of his affection, I can only hope it will be forever. Because he is worth being loved without shame or remorse or even..." You stopped talking, tears rolling down your face. "Remember your promise." With these words you left him there not realizing that as soon as the door had closed behind you, he fell apart. Not only had you opened his eyes to who Booker really was, but he had just seen you at your most beautifull and your most fragile moment and it made him ache for you. For both of you. 

Little did the both of you know, that Booker had not really left the church at all. He had known you were there and was curious when Joe showed up as well. So he stayed and listened. He never meant to eavesdrop but when you started talking he couldn't turn away. After today, knowing you loved him, knowing that despite it all you still loved him, he would never be able to turn away.


End file.
